Тяжёлые времена

Mrs. Sparsit’s Staircase

           

           ‘Ialmostfeelasthoughitmustbebadinme,’returnedLouisa,aftersittingthoughtfulawhile,‘tobesoreadytoagreewithyou,andtobesolightenedinmyheartbywhatyousay.’

           ‘Ionlysaywhatisreasonable;nothingworse.IhavetalkeditoverwithmyfriendTommorethanonceofcourseIremainontermsofperfectconfidencewithTomandheisquiteofmyopinion,andIamquiteofhis.Willyouwalk?’

           Theystrolledaway,amongthelanesbeginningtobeindistinctinthetwilightsheleaningonhisarmandshelittlethoughthowshewasgoingdown,down,down,Mrs.Sparsit’sstaircase.

           Nightandday,Mrs.Sparsitkeptitstanding.WhenLouisahadarrivedatthebottomanddisappearedinthegulf,itmightfallinuponherifitwould;but,untilthen,thereitwastobe,aBuilding,beforeMrs.Sparsit’seyes.AndthereLouisaalwayswas,uponit.

           Andalwaysglidingdown,down,down!

           Mrs.SparsitsawJamesHarthousecomeandgo;sheheardofhimhereandthere;shesawthechangesofthefacehehadstudied;she,too,remarkedtoanicetyhowandwhenitclouded,howandwhenitcleared;shekeptherblackeyeswideopen,withnotouchofpity,withnotouchofcompunction,allabsorbedininterest.Intheinterestofseeingher,everdrawing,withnohandtostayher,nearerandnearertothebottomofthisnewGiant’sStaircase.

           WithallherdeferenceforMr.Bounderbyascontradistinguishedfromhisportrait,Mrs.Sparsithadnotthesmallestintentionofinterruptingthedescent

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